Children of the Dust

The Children of the Dust

A tale of brothers, loss, and remembrance. All in Briar Glen know not to stray too far north, lest you become lost, one with the Dust, one with the Mother, the Lady, the Wrathful.
“You three again? Haven’t I told you just this morning that you cannot be out in the woods so late?” The eldest stood politely in the doorway. “I’m sorry, mum. We were picking these for you!” At this, the two younger boys produced a basket, slightly sodden from the rain. “Oh, goodness. How can I stay mad at you kids? You know how much I love purple, but you must be careful! I know the Sin only grows next to that cursed gateway.” As the children came inside, their mother could not help revealing a smile. “Ever since your father… left, the little ones have looked up to you.” She embraced her eldest son, and a warmth fell over the room. The night was quiet.
Breakfast the next morning was divine. All the worry the mother held from the previous night seemed entwined within the bread and eggs the children ravenously enjoyed. On the center of the table was a bouquet of the otherworldly flowers the boys had picked the night prior. “Now, boys. I know you are excited for today’s lessons. However- I want you to come back before sundown this time. I couldn’t fit any more flowers in the house if you brought them.” The mother smiled. “Yes, mum!” the brothers exclaimed. As they were rushing out the door, the youngest was caught by the warm arms of his mother. “You know how much I love you.” Embarrassed, the boy joined his brothers.
It was a brisk day in the northwestern city. As the sunlight pierced the canopies above, the forested city began to shed layers of frost and dew from the cold, rainy night. As the boys drew closer to the riverbank, they beheld a ranger. As he noticed the boys, his face warmed. “I thought you wouldn’t show! Let’s not waste any time. I’ve brought your bows. We’re trying something new today.” Excited, the brothers slung their quivers over their shoulders and followed their mentor. They had been training in archery for several months, hoping to take after their father as rangers. “You’ve hit plenty of targets. But you three need to understand what it means to hunt. We don’t kill for sport. You must respect what you kill, and always do so with the intent to eat it. Understand?” The boys nodded, and the party set into the woods.
Their mentor was an older man, likely in his sixties. He had retired from active service and devoted his time to teaching marksmanship to his students. Regardless of it having been years since the Drowned Road was closed, the fall of Eastwythe laid fresh in his mind. As his thoughts drifted, the second brother spoke. “You never take us to the northern road, uncle Teshan. I heard there were monsters there. Didn’t we beat them?” The old ranger chuckled. “We did, little one. Where did you hear such things? Now shush. Look ahead.” The brothers were in awe that their mentor even noticed; a magnificent deer stood grazing not fifty feet away. If it had been another day, the boys would have sat still, watching the creature as it stood unaware of their presence. However, the youngest was to make his shot first. He nocked an arrow, drew, and focused on the flank where the beast’s heart lay. Just as his fingers loosened, a voice echoed in his mind. “No.”
At his gasp, the deer spooked. As it escaped, his older brothers looked at their youngest with disappointment. “It would seem you were as spooked as our quarry. You look as white as a ghost, child.” said the ranger. “What happened?” The third brother looked around, almost too stunned to speak. “I…heard something. Someone. It told me no.” What could the others say? Despite wishing to voice their disbelief, the eldest spoke with kindness. “It’s quite alright, Wren. Your arrow flies true!” As Wren stepped to retrieve his arrow, a shimmer, ever so slight, washed over the shaft. As his hands wrapped around and pulled, Wren collapsed.
“Hmm. The boy found his way here?"
Wren’s vision was shrouded in darkness. As thousands of voices coalesced into one, a small light broke through- growing and shrinking like lungs drawing breath. What could the boy say? He was frozen with fear, and he could not hear his brothers. “Where am I?” As Wren spoke, the light grew, almost breathing in his voice. “You are here by…accident? Curious. It has been millennia since I’ve had guests. Come, child.”
The darkness lifted, revealing a glamorous stone chamber. Gold laces filled the room, all leading to a jeweled throne in the center. On it was a creature, not unlike a woman. Her eyes gleamed a brilliant white, and her form was not unlike the fey Wren had read about. She looked expectantly at the boy, waiting for his questions. “Where are my brothers? Where is uncle Teshan?” Wren was in shock, adrenaline fuelling his sanity. His brothers were… his brothers? What was he talking about? What is mother doing here?
“I’ve missed you, child. How could you let your mother worry for so long? Surely you REMEMBER…my Stardust.”
The boy remembered. Or did he know? Maybe he always knew. This is Mother. The city was the Dream. He was home.
His embrace with the Lady in Pearl lasted a lifetime. He awoke, an aged man, withering to Dust, his time spent. At least he was with Mother. In spirit, he would carry the others Home.